Rukia's Rain and Other Oneshots
by Suisho x Hirako Shinji
Summary: Ichigo didn't want Byakuya as a brother-in-law, and to burden Rukia with a new idiotic father-in-law, but what could he do when he had already proposed? Proposal was just half the battle, and Byakuya was the other half, literally. Carnival Proposal Pt. 2
1. Rukia's Rain

**Not-so-long-author-note:** This is one of my reviewers' long-awaited prize, a freestyle oneshot by me, for winning my author note contest. Congratulations **Anya**, and sorry about the delay!

This is rated **T **for mild language.

**Warning: Possible spoilers.**

* * *

><p><strong>Rukia's Rain<strong>

"Like hell you're okay! Don't come to school! You'd probably keel over before you even leave my house!"

"What did you say? I dare you to repeat that again, Ichigo."

"A. Little. Girl. Like. You. Should. Stay. Home."

"Why you-!"

"Whoa! See, this is why I'm telling you to stay home!"

This last sentence was exclaimed after Ichigo caught Rukia in his arms, who would have accrued a nasty collection of bruises when she fell out of her closet in dizziness if it weren't for his assistance. He noted her appearance with some concern, though most wouldn't have been able to tell with his still-furrowed brows that gave off the appearance of a scowl.

Her normally well kept hair was disheveled with sweat and from a night's worth of tossing and turning. Karakura's standard high school uniform also appeared unusually untidy, with wrinkles marring what would normally have been a professional look. It was odd to see the tiny and mostly elegant Kuchiki so unkempt, not to mention pale. She was naturally pale, and colored too easily and too often for flushed cheeks to be too much of a concern to him, but her paleness was definitely nothing positive. It drew attention to the dark bags under her eyes, heavily-lidded eyes and the dullness of her normally bright and fierce violet eyes.

He glanced around his bedroom in search of any medical supplies. His eyes roved over a plain desk with several books and papers, with an equally inconspicuous lamp. His bed laid unmade, a result of him jumping out of his bed to investigate the strange noises he had heard. Said noises, he soon came to find out, were from none other than the stowaway in his closet.

"Back off! I've dealt with worse conditions in my Shinigami work!" she retorted, though it held no sway in its shakiness. Ichigo sighed exasperatedly, and lifted her under her arms and tossed her over his right shoulder, to her mortification. She squawked in indignation, and made her displeasure known by weakly beating her tiny fists against his broad back and complaining.

And this is what he got for trying to be nice to her.

He gave one last look to his room, noting that outside the windows, it was around 5 in the morning. It wouldn't do to wake up anyone, even his annoying bearded father, for something he could probably handle himself.

He hefted her again, and walked down the stairs, but not before turning off his room lights. Rukia quieted down, not wishing to wake up any of the other Kurosaki household members. She had that much tact at least as a guest in this household. She wondered if her nii-sama would be pleased at her manners or disappointed with her slight subservience to the Kurosaki family. Probably displeased.

She felt the vibrations as Ichigo descended down the stairs silently, minding the creaky parts of the steps, and coming down in the living room. He laid her down on the couch in front of the TV, and shuffled into the kitchen. From her fetal position on the comfortable piece of furniture, Rukia could hear drawers and cabinet doors opening, as well as the occasional clink of cutlery. As she waited patiently for him to finish whatever business he had, she reflected on why Ichigo was being so nice to her.

It wasn't that he wasn't nice, but he was the type of individual that found it hard to express themselves through words and actions. But then again, he was definitely some level of niceness for shouldering the mantle of a Substitute Shinigami and protecting the lives of Karakura residents, who continued to remain ignorant of the Hollows lurking around, or the wandering souls.

Her musings were cut short when the orange-haired Kurosaki returned from the kitchen with a tray. She hurriedly tried to force herself up into a sitting position. He sat next to her and lifted a thermometer up to her mouth. She opened her mouth obediently, and he popped the medical tool in, and set to arranging the cups and various medicine on the tray.

Rukia resisted the urge to roll the glass stick around in her mouth, knowing that it wouldn't help, and instead settled for holding the contraption under her tongue. She still couldn't understand why humans used these devices, but they made her curious, and she liked to have questions and answer them. She watched Ichigo group different colored pills together and mix what appeared to be tea in a ceramic mug with a small spoon.

He lifted his hand to yank the thermometer out, and inspected the thermometer.

"You have a fever, but it's not that bad," he noted. He handed her the tea wordlessly and she grunted a thanks, before sipping it slightly. She noticed that her throat felt prickly, a most disagreeable and unpleasant sensation. Her Shinigami partner noted her discomfort, and deposited the pills in her free hand.

"You'll want to swallow-"

"I know, Ichigo," she hoarsely retorted, though it held no actual irritation. Ichigo knew it was simply her automatic reaction to push him away and shoulder her illness alone. She could be so stubborn with help sometimes, like when he had to rescue her in Soul Society and she had refused his help on multiple counts…

She set the cup down, the pills now traveling their way down her body, and shivered. He tossed the blanket at the other end of the sofa to her, and she gratefully cocooned herself in it.

He stood to pick up the tray, and took several steps towards the kitchen before he stopped, his back turned to her. She sent a silent question to his back with her eyes, and he asked, "How'd you get sick anyways? It's not like you or most Shinigami to get sick."

When he heard no reply, he turned just in time to see her avert her eyes and carefully hide something behind her eyes. Stung slightly by how she refused to tell, yet respecting her privacy, he took the tray to the kitchen and left it in the sink to wash later.

"I'll wake you up later for school. If you feel better by then, we'll go." And with that, he crossed the room to lounge in a sofa, and turned on the TV, keeping it at a low volume setting. She again stared quizzically at him, and he sent her a look back. _Like I'm going to leave you here._ She had to smile at that in appreciation, and finally allowed her exhausted and shivering body to fall asleep.

"_Atta girl, Kuchiki! Hit harder, swing faster!" She panted with exertion, but did not feel like complaining. Setting her eyes into a determined scowl, she cried her battle cry, and lunged for her opponent in front of her. Sode no Shirayuki whistled through the air, but her foe was faster still. She whirled around on the spot, searching for the vanished foe. _

"_Over here!" She spun around quickly to the left, before she felt an explosion of pain on her forehead, and fell to the ground on her rump. She shot back up quickly, rubbing her forehead and pouting childishly. _

"_T-that hurt! What if you had taken my eyes out? Or broken my nose!"_

"_Psha, you should be able to handle that much at least! And someone as great as me wouldn't hit there with my aim! Not this Shiba Kaien!"_

_She finished patting her hair back to order, and held her sword at her side, looking up at her lieutenant. In every aspect, except a few, he looked like someone she knew, though that person's name was slipping from her mind at the moment. _

_She noted his strong jaw, spiky purple hair, aquamarine eyes with pronounced lower eyelashes and his tall, well-built build. He shook her head to clear her mind and watched his next move. He strode over to a spot some feet away from her as she watched, and simply stopped there. Rukia quickly settled into a defensive stance, and waited for Kaien-dono to make a move. Seeing as he wasn't making a move after several moments, she concluded that he wanted her to attack of her own initiative. How strange though. Hadn't he wanted her to practice her defensive stance mostly? _

_Again, she shook these thoughts from her head, and jumped after him, her sword arcing in a deadly half circle to his left shoulder. Shock swept through her like frigid ice water when he made no move to defend himself and the sword cut cleanly through him. _

"_Kaien-dono!" _

_She quickly checked her forward momentum, and carefully extracted her sword from his thankfully long yet shallow cut. "I'm so sorry Kaien-dono! I will begin with emergency healing!" she flustered, closing her eyes and concentrating healing Kido into her hands, channeling them. As she did so, she also noted how odd it was that he did not avoid, parry, or counterattack her blow. Her stealth had been improving lately, but surely he could still detect her footwork as easily as the day she had been conscripted into the Thirteenth Division? He hadn't even cried, crumpled, or hissed in pain, too. She was jolted out of her reverie, and noted that a strong hand had attached itself to her wrists with a firm grip. _

_She looked up. "Kai-" She found herself cutting off in horror, as she found herself face to face with an old face she had hoped to never see again._

"_Hello, little girl. Looking for your precious lieutenant again?"_

_The grotesque thing, an all-too-familiar Hollow, wiggled its disgusting pink tentacles and leered at her through its mask, before it suddenly transformed into a mockery of Kaien, who was now green-skinned, with bright deranged eyes, and orange markings around each. This monstrosity too leered at her, and lunged, yelling "He's right here!"_

_Before she could even scream, in a blink of an eye, she found Kaien's body, impaled on her sword which had somehow moved to a position in front of her. The same warm but cooling blood rolled down her face for the second time that night, she felt her sword shake and tremble with the weight on it for the second time that night, and she felt her mind, heart, soul, everything about her splintering again… for the second time that night. _

"_Aaaahh!"_

_She felt a hand land with a heavy thump next to her blood-splattered cheek on her shoulder and flinched. _

"_Kuchiki…I dragged you into this… my stubbornness has caused you pain…" he murmured regretfully, his eyes swimming with guilt and suppressed pain. She noted that his breathing was shallow and labored, and that though it must have hurt a lot (of course it did, her sword was sharp, was through him, was dripping with his blood), he did not show any sign of pain. For her sake._

_Why…? Why did she have to repeat that night again? Had she not atoned by laying his soul at peace once and for all in the battle against Arroniero? Had she not apologized to his siblings? Did he still hate her after all, for killing him? Her hands that still gripped her sword hilt tightly trembled, clenched and unclenched in turns. _

"_I'm sorry. You must be torn apart inside."_

_Wrong. She wasn't torn apart inside. She didn't have anything inside. _

"_Thanks… to you…" _

_What was there for him to thank? She had murdered him; he was going to die, going to leave his siblings, his friends, and his wife again. But wait, his wife had died at the ends of the same Hollow that had manipulated him to the end. At least he could be with his wife in a sense. How morbid her thoughts were…_

"_My heart… can still stay here…"_

_His heart may stay, but hers couldn't. It would forever be bogged down with guilt in this rainy dark forest…_

_Rainy… She had just noticed it was raining, had just become aware of the droplets streaking down her face like tears, dragging his blood off with it. It soaked her robes and his, making his body heavier than it already was. That was alright though; she would shoulder all the weight in the world for her sins. And it still wouldn't be enough to pay them all._

_She waited for the next part she knew was going to happen, how his hand, cracked from the parasitic Hollow, encircled the small of her back, in a final desperate gesture to convey his apologies and comfort. She waited, for the increasingly inert and cold hand she knew was going to grasp her, _thank_ her, thank her for _murdering _him. It was then, to her surprise, that the hand that encircled her back was neither cold, heavy, or falling apart at the seams like her sanity was, but rather warm, firm, and comforting. _

_Almost sobbing with relief, she hugged Kaien-dono's now dead body closer even as she leaned back into the unfamiliar yet familiar hand. _

_It was so warm… She fancied she could hear Kaien-dono's voice even now, chanting "Rukia, Rukia…"_

_But Rukia… wasn't what Kaien-dono called her… Rather, wasn't it Kuchiki…?_

With a gasp, Rukia jolted awake, her eyes fluttering around before swiveling to the side. At first she was confused, and thought she was under white blankets, for a white expanse of cloth was all she could see. Then the cloth rustled and backed away, and she realized it was Ichigo's white tee-shirt, clothing one worried teen. She also realized that the warmth at her back had disappeared, and surmised that Ichigo had been trying to help her up, or comfort her. More warmth blossomed within her, this time from her chest to all parts of her body.

"And you said that you could go to school today," he stated with an annoyed tone, yet with an expression of relief. She blinked at him, than glanced at the clock, and nearly jumped off the sofa in surprise. It was past school ending time, meaning she had slept through the whole morning and most of the afternoon!

It was then she noticed how Ichigo stood up, grimacing at his stiff and unresponsive legs. She frowned and did some quick body calculations. Based on the time she knew Ichigo normally got home from school, he couldn't have been sitting at her side more than fifteen minutes maximum, which wasn't enough to get cramped and stiff legs. This she knew from years sitting on the ground at the Shinigami Academy.

"Ichigo?"

"What? You need to go to the bathroom?"

She flushed, and in a raspy voice, shot back, "I'm _just _fine," before she coughed softly. "How long were you here?"

He didn't meet her questioning gaze as he retreated to the kitchen and came back with a glass of water. She gulped it down thirstily, before setting the glass down on the coffee table close to her, and awaited his response.

He rubbed his head, which she had come to associate as a habit he did when he was embarrassed or confused, and mused "That doesn't matter. I mostly had Kon watch you while I got lun-"

"You skipped school?" she interrupted, now feeling guilty. While it was nice that he had apparently stayed the whole day to take care of her, she was a Shinigami, at least a century and a half older than him, and could take care of herself just fine. He needn't have wasted a day better spent educating himself about the wonders and complexities of the human world.

"It's fine," he continued, undeterred in the least by her outburst, before his voice softened slightly. He stared at her in silence for a few moments, noting that color had returned to her cheeks, and while she was still sweaty and exhausted, she did not seem to be shivering any more.

"Who's this Kaien dude?"

He watched Rukia freeze, before a colorful range of emotions fluctuated across her face. Despair, fondness, guilt, peacefulness, regret, and so much more. Like she had earlier that day, she tucked them away and hid behind her question: "How did you find out?"

"You were muttering in your sleep."

"Did I say… anything else…?"

He stared at her for a long moment, and though she was used to holding the gaze of much more intimidating people, she found it hard to look at his eyes then. "You didn't," he answered, but she found it unconvincing. No matter. She would find out later.

"You got sick because of this dude, huh?"

She didn't say anything, and he scratched his head again and made to grab her glass to refill it again when she answered, "He was important to me, yet I killed him with my own hands."

He jolted in shock. No way. She meant to say that like him, she had dealt with the pain of killing someone they had loved, yet unlike him, she had had no one to talk to about this yet? He could tell she hadn't told anyone, for she didn't have many close friends at Soul Society, and he had a gut feeling even Renji didn't know about this.

He thought about that day at the cemetery, where Rukia had yet again attempted to help his family in her own way, by having Kon take his place to watch over them, and had healed him of his physical wounds and his emotional pain. He thought back to words that seemed so long ago, yet so recent, and decided to give Rukia a taste of her own medicine. It wasn't going to start exactly like before though…

_You're not… going to ask anything?_

…_If I ask, will you answer?_

"I bet you won't tell me what happened for real," he began as his mind returned to reality. Rukia lifted her head up wearily and stared at him. Her appearance was still worn, but her eyes were brighter, meaning she was focused. Good.

"…_It's your problem. A deep, deep problem."_

She stared at him in shock, the words slowing dawning on her, as clear as if it had been yesterday, despite her long life of memories and experiences as a Shinigami.

"_I have no right to know. I don't have a method of stepping into the depths of your heart without getting it dirty," _he continued, unembarrassed, unregretful, honest with the words that flowed from his mouth as easily as a clear, unobstructed stream. These words didn't need memory, it only needed a vessel that could deliver them with conviction. It was his turn to be their vessel, like her, like the one that helped to forgive himself on that day at the cemetery.

"_So I'll wait." _

By this time, Rukia was sitting propped up against the sofa as best as she could, watching him with intensity, watching like a man dying of thirst would watch a waterfall after chancing upon it, like a starving man at a feast, like a lonely man at friends.

"_When you want to talk, when you think it's okay to talk… talk to me."_

_Talk to me, Rukia, _he thought, watching as sleep took her over again, though not before a single phrase slipped from her lips: "Thank you, Ichigo."

He stared at figure that was now lying across the sofa again, before he shook his head.

"Stupid, I don't need thanks."

_Talk to me Rukia, because you chased away my rain. _

He checked her fever with his hand one last time, and concluded she was well enough for school tomorrow, if she got plenty of rest. He cleaned up the leftovers of takeout lunch and medical supplies, before he walked towards the kitchen. He turned back to look at the little Shinigami at the couch, before allowing a small little smile he hardly showed to anyone.

But she wasn't just anyone.

_Talk to me Rukia. Because you chased away my rain…_

_I'll chase away yours._

* * *

><p><strong>Super-long-author-note: <strong>Personally, I think this would have been better in **When It's Rukia**, but I had to get to an oneshot before I got sick again, haha. So **Anya**, you waited a long time for this probably, and for that, I'm sorry. I don't know your reading style preference, so I guess this is similar to the tone and mood of **When It's Rukia**.

So I do have a form of cancer, and this is really impactful on me and my school life now, so I'll be able to respond less to you and any readers reading this. I'm grateful for your first input on my first fic. I'll never forget you, that's a promise.

So, this fic was not that specific as I would have liked, but I think fussing too much over it would leave the impression that I forget promises, so I just posted it as it is. I hope you and any other readers like this.

Feel free to check out my other fics, but be warned that because of cancer, updates will be few and far in between. Thanks so much to **Anya** and all my supporters thus far.


	2. Carnival Proposal Pt 1

**Not-so-long-author-note:** This is another one of my reviewers' long-awaited prize, a freestyle oneshot by me, for winning my author note contest. Congratulations **xombi316**, and sorry about the delay!

This is rated **T **for mild language.

**Warning: Possible spoilers.**

* * *

><p><strong>Carnival Proposal Pt. 1<br>**

"Ichigo! I want that Chappy! That Chappy!" Rukia squealed, hopping up and down and jabbing her fingers toward the aforementioned object in her excitement. The same couldn't be said for Ichigo, who was glaring down at her from behind, hands jammed in his purple windbreaker, and breathing somewhat heavily.

"It couldn't have hurt to slow down you know," he complained. "It's not like anybody wants those things."

"Don't call them 'things'!" she cried indignantly. "They're Chappy! Number one most popular type of Soul Candy!"

"Speaking of which," Ichigo scowled, ignoring her previous comment, "Did you bring yours?"

Rukia adopted a more serious tone, before unceremoniously stomping on his sneaker-clad feet.

"Ow, what the he-!"

"Of course I did, you fool!"

The petite Shinigami huffed and spun away from him, momentarily forgetting about Chappy. Hopping on the spot, cursing all the while, Ichigo gave his Shinigami partner an evil eye and a quick glance over.

In accordance with tonight's chilly weather, she had dressed herself in leggings with beige boots, a plain purple dress that reached her knees, and a peach fur coat foisted upon her by one overly enthusiastic Kurosaki Isshin, who had claimed before seeing them off, "It's cold out there, and you never know what punks will try to touch my third daught-" and had been cut off by well-placed kick on his face, courtesy of one annoyed Kurosaki Ichigo.

After seeing her hair lightly dusted with snow, he quickly brushed his orange locks, only to come away with a damp hand. Scowling, he wiped it on his windbreaker, which concealed a thick white sweater and hung slightly past his comfortable jeans.

When he looked up, Rukia had remembered her objective, and had darted away in front of the colorful booths.

They were at a carnival, taking advantage of a week off from school, due to construction issues. As Rukia had never been to one, whether in Soul Society or the Human World, he had suggested they go visit it today. He was willing to make a bet there weren't carnivals in Soul Society though. Well, it beat going on a "family-reconnection" trip to the old folk village two cities away, where his idiotic father and his two sisters, Yuzu and Karin, were.

"Hurry!" called Rukia, interrupting his train of thought. He griped about Chappy for a few moments, before walking briskly to where she was.

As he maneuvered the bustling crowd, full of couples and families, different parts of the carnival grounds flashed by his eyes.

Currently, he and Rukia were in the booths sections, where they sold snacks, drinks, and tickets, and hosted various games where one could win prizes. To the left of this section stood a reasonably tall Ferris wheel, with box cars of red, blue, green, yellow, and orange, and decked in hundreds of small but brilliant lights. For the moment, it had stopped, but would soon start up and turn slowly again, offering a panoramic view at the highest point of the ride of the lake several miles away.

To the right, smaller rides and bigger rides occupied passerby's attention, including a spinning tea cup ride, two different roller coasters, and more. In front of him and past the crowd was a bigger crowd, entering and exiting a group of small stores with carnival merchandise. Behind him was the entrance through which they had entered that morning, which had a furnished arch announcing a welcome to all customers.

He allowed himself a brief rub of tonight's "good luck charm" in his pocket, before hurrying to where one short Kuchiki stood, stomping in impatience.

"_Do you know what you're going to do about school?" queried an inquisitive Asano Keigo. His face was currently mildly serious, but could be prone to change into an expression that people preferred to call "his idiot face". His feet dangled over the desk he was perched on, swinging and occasionally nudging Ichigo's leg, which earned him some nasty bruises. _

"_He's probably just going to go work in his dad's clinic, right?" supplied Kojima Mizuiro, who spoke between bites of a sandwich. "It's not like you have any ambition to do anything else."_

"_True," Ichigo agreed, who stood leaning against one of the walls of his classroom, "But I've got time."_

"_Ichigo!" wailed Keigo, "Do you know how quickly time flies by? It's not even funny. All the chances to go bowling, dig some hot chicks, TP the teachers' homes are slipping through our fingers!" He ended his short rant with an ear-grating, annoying shriek, which was quickly silenced by a swift punch. _

_Ichigo rubbed the back of his head, scowling, and muttered about Keigo's idiocy, when the door slammed open with a deep cry of "Ichigo!"_

_Said person's two friends stared at the person in the doorway in shock, who hastily composed herself. _

"_Oh my, I'm sorry for the interruption, but I _must_ speak with Kurosaki-san," she giggled in a sweet voice. Ichigo immediately became alert, and hurried over to her, calling over his shoulder to his friends: "Be right back."_

_As the door slid shut, the two friends looked at the doorway in silence, before Mizuiro broke the silence, remarking, "She's still pretending, isn't she? Even though we already know everything… About her being a Shinigami and all." _

_Keigo, for once, did not offer his own two cents, but merely grunted. _

Ichigo had reached Rukia's side and peered into the booth, having to bend slightly to see her object of desire at the very back. Her eyes feasted upon a pale white rabbit, with droopy ears and red eyes, quivering in fear in its metal cage. Next to it was a wooden decorative basket, with purple velvet blankets lining the bottom, a handle to hold it from, and several carrots and a guide on how to take care of pet rabbits.

The rabbit had not escaped the notice of other passerby, and currently, the booth Ichigo and Rukia were at had the most spectators around it due to its unique prize. Rukia had snagged third place in the waiting line, and motioned him to come over with her hand, before turning to stare at the booth.

Booths were something she was familiar with, as she had seen a couple in Soul Society festivals. However, the bright colorful wallpaper lining the inside, the game itself, and the absolutely adorable Chappy (for she refused to call it otherwise) were certainly new to her. She leaned back a bit to read the sign: "Are You Compatible?"

She turned red at the implications, and suddenly wished she had not so urgently called for the Substitute Shinigami. But she really wanted that rabbit…

"_What is it? A Hollow?"_

_Rukia and Ichigo ran down the hallway, with Rukia poring over her otherworldly "cell phone", or order receiver. _

"_Yeah, two hollows down the street with the bakery. One of them is abnormally big. It doesn't have abnormal reiatsu though," she rattled off, experienced with the short and sometimes confusing orders she was sent. _

_She and Ichigo made a sharp turn and hurried down the stairs. _

"_Of all the days not to bring Kon," he grumbled, keeping up with her and reaching into his back pocket for his Shinigami Substitute badge. _

"_It's better that way," she assured him, popping her soul candy into her mouth, before stopping briefly to instruct Chappy to act normally and to watch over the students, before she continued to run. "Even if some people at school know the situation between you and me, it's better not to cause any more excitement."_

_Ichigo stumbled slightly at her choice of her words, before giving her a glance. _

_Between you… and me… _

_Though she had probably meant about how the secret that they were both Shinigami had gotten out after the war to his friends, he was thinking of it in a different context, but didn't have much time to do so after they rushed out of the school building. He quickly slammed the badge against his chest, and let his body drop against some bushes, which concealed it moderately well. _

_He loved the feeling of being a Shinigami again, after the whole Fullbringer fiasco, no matter how much he claimed he wanted to have a normal life. Being a Shinigami gave him powers to protect his loved ones. He also loved how light and powerful he felt, and the wind rushing past him as he easily leapt high and far distances. But most of all, being a Shinigami was the only one way he could see the person running by his side. _

By now, Ichigo had caught up to Rukia, puzzled as to why her face had suddenly flushed and her eyes darted everywhere but him and the booth. He glanced up at the booth name, and understood.

_Oh._

"I-Ichigo, let's go back…" she mumbled, still not looking at him. He stared at her for a moment, before craning his neck past the two couples in front of him to see the game.

Basically, a red ribbon was tied around a couple's hands, the right of the girl's and the left of the guy's. Then they were forced to participate in various hand-eye coordination games that would have been easy were it not for the tied hands. The games included knocking down bottles, fishing for the right colored duck in a fast moving current, and tossing rings around three poles. At the end, the owner of the booth, a kindly looking old man asked the couple their relationship status: dating, engaged, or married.

He frowned. It wasn't too bad. The game suited his plans tonight perfectly and his competitive spirit was up to outdo the other men. He only hoped that nobody in front of them would manage to win the rabbit.

"_You're going to ask her out, right? I knew this would happen sooner or later, give me the details!" demanded an eager Arisawa Tatsuki. _

_Ichigo turned slightly red and rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment, sitting on the bedroom floor of his childhood friend along with Mizuiro and Keigo. Inoue was with her distant extended relatives, Chad was at a concert with some of his other friends, and Ishida was currently at a cram school. The poor nerd. _

_He tousled his hair some more, before he mumbled something unintelligible. Tatsuki raised a threatening foot, forcing him to speak up louder. _

"_I said, I was going to take her to the amusement park or the carnival to-"_

"_What gave you the inspiration to?" asked Mizuiro._

_Somewhat annoyed, he answered, "Her birthday's coming up. I just felt like it would be appropriate then."_

"_January 13th?"_

"_No, the 14th. And anyways, how did you guys find out? I don't recall telling anybody about this," he accused, the tips of his ears turning noticeably red again. _

_Tatsuki shrugged, and Mizuiro simply studied the posters of athletes on the walls. It was Keigo who declared, "You've been so sly lately, Ichigo! Giving such lovey-dovey looks to Kuch-" and was promptly silenced again with a kick, this time from Tatsuki. _

"_That aside, Ichigo, how exactly do you plan to do this?"_

"_We're having next week off, right? I just figured doing it then."_

"_This is serious, you know, you have to think about what you're doing here."_

"_I'm sure."_

_She studied his eyes, which were narrowed in as serious of an expression as he could get and his confident upright body. His eyes burned with that will that she knew from past experiences would let him accomplish and lend him the bravery and motivation to succeed in his goals. So he was determined to see this through._

I'm sorry, Orihime, _thought Tatsuki sadly. _I want to root for you, but I also can't force Ichigo away from the one person I've ever seen him like this much.

"_So," she said in a business tone, dispelling her sadder thoughts, "let's get to it._

"_How are you going to ask her out?"_

"_About that…"_

Before she knew it, it was their turn, as the couples before them had only met with failure. She cocked an eyebrow at him, giving him one last chance to back out. A man's pride was important after all.

_And his life_, she added as a somber afterthought, thinking of Kaien and Ichigo's one of many close brushes with death when he faced off against the Grand Fisher in the cemetery, on his mother's death anniversary.

She did want the rabbit, but she supposed she could always visit a pet store. But this rabbit was so cute, and it would be her first prize from her first carnival, if she did win it. She braced herself for disappointment.

To her shock, Ichigo shrugged, and shouldered his way through the crowd to stand next to her. She felt suddenly warm, despite the frigid temperature and the visible vapor leaving her mouth with every breath into the cool air.

_Thank you, Ichigo_.

By now, a sizable crowd had gathered in front of their booth, some for the rabbit, and the outer spectators out of curiosity to see what had drawn such a large crowd at one booth.

Ichigo and Rukia felt self-conscious, but steeled themselves to go ahead with their plans anyway.

_I will win, for what he's doing! _she vowed to herself, though the scale of what Ichigo was doing now wasn't much compared to what he was really planning to do.

_I'd better not screw this up, _he thought nervously, rubbing the charm in his pocket with more insistence.

_Let's get on with it! _they both thought, and extended their hands.

The man gently wrapped the red ribbon of fate around their wrists, his wrinkly fingers brushing both their hands as he did so.

"Oho," he chuckled, "such a young pair, I feel a winner is here in my bones."

The audience behind them cooed, commenting on how her short height contrasted so cutely with his tall frame, as well as their hair colors. Others gushed about how softly his hand held hers, and how close of a proximity she was comfortable with to her partner, and what that meant about their trust.

Rukia's eyes grew wide, her limbs shook, and her mouth opened and closed repeatedly and silently, suddenly too hot and panicked to focus on the one comment about her height, while Ichigo averted his eyes and rubbed the back of his hair with his free hand, before they both turned their attention to the game.

"First," the booth owner declared, "the ring toss game."

He handed the joined hands seven rings, and informed them that at least five of them had to make it for a prize, and that all of them had to make it for the rabbit.

Rukia licked her lips nervously, all too aware of the spectators' stares and compliments, the knowing twinkle in the man's eyes, and the warm weight of Ichigo's hand against hers, clutching the small and heavy plastic rings.

"This shouldn't be too hard," Ichigo remarked, trying to relieve the tension, and focus on the game, and not how her small delicate hand did not fit with his, but rather was enclosed securely in his large one and how cold they were. He resolved to stop by the shops and buy some gloves later.

Rukia nodded, aware of the fact that he was referring to their development of hand-eye coordinated moves in battles and their work as Shinigami.

"Ready, set, go!" cried the man, and the pair, without consulting or practicing a few test swings, snapped their wrists forward. The ring landed perfectly on the left pole, and elicited a few claps from the crowd. The rest of the rings went just as quickly, and when the last ring finished swinging its way down the center pole, the audience clapped as one.

Next, the owner had them come deeper into the booth for the fishing game, and the audience moved with them, staying outside but now closer than before, the better to peek in at the proceedings.

This too also went easily. The rules were to pick the six red-tagged ducks which would only loop once in the current. The tags were incredibly small, and hard to spot, and the ducks were spaced randomly, some close to another, others with larger gaps in between. Four were needed for a prize, and like before, all ducks had to be picked for a chance to win the rabbit.

The two Shinigami knelt down in front of the water tray in front of them, and clutched one blue plastic fishing rod together with their fingers intertwined. With their developed sense of vision from analyzing countless battle moves, and their trust of each other, they were able to snag all six, to the growing delight of the crowd.

"Now," murmured the booth owner, "the bottle knock-down game. 10 are needed for any prize, but 13 are needed for the rabbit." Then he smiled, and stated, "And I have a feeling that will not be too hard for this couple."

By this point, the duo had calmed down enough to stop flushing or reacting embarrassedly every time the audience cheered and focused on the task.

_It's not a matter of strength,_ analyzed Rukia.

_It's more about knowing exactly where to aim,_ thought Ichigo, who had experience with such games. They were handed just one baseball. Both gripped it firmly, and hurled it in the same direction, again without communication, towards the weak point they had both silently agreed on.

With a tinkle and crash, all bottles clattered down from their pyramid structure, and the ball rolled away out of sight.

The audience roared its approval, and the beaming Rukia and pleased Ichigo were presented with the basket, on top of which lay the caged rabbit. Rukia held on to the basket handle with her free hand, squealing down at the albino rabbit.

"For the final question," smiled the elderly booth owner, "what is your current relationship status? Dating, engaged, or married?"

Rukia suddenly felt awkward. It was true that she and Ichigo were very good friends, and that her own feelings for him were straddling the fence between deep comradeship, and something more, but this matter also included Ichigo's feelings. What _were_ his feelings? She wondered nervously.

She opened her mouth, resolved to say "just friends", when to her shock, Ichigo stated to the man and the now silent crowd, "Engaged."

The crowd roared and whistled and was whipped into a chaotic frenzy of congratulations and good wishes. Rukia tuned this all out in favor of staring up at the orange-haired high school student in disbelief.

"Engaged?" she choked out, "_Engaged?_"

"Not yet."

He stared at her, and she felt a blush claw its way up her cheeks, as memories of when he had rescued her from her execution leapt to the forefront of her mind. His cocky look, his happy look, his _tender_ look, it all flashed through her with a new meaning, seeing the gentle smirk on his face in front of her right now.

He lifted his free hand to scratch the back of his head in embarrassment, and his eyes swiveled upwards to the left, trying to remember what he had prepared for this moment…

"_Wait, you mean to tell me you're going to go ahead with this plan of yours without a speech of some sort?" Tatsuki demanded of him._

"_Um," he began, but his friend cut him off, berating him the whole while. _

"_Really! You should at least come up with something to say, instead of doing this silently, like some illiterate caveman!" she huffed. _

"_Maybe you should listen to her. Boys can say some rather stupid things without planning," stated Mizuiro in a matter-of-fact tone, ignoring Keigo's new wails of Mizuiro's "betrayal to all of manly mankind" with his statement just now. _

_Ichigo agreed on this half-heartedly, still not sure what to say, and if he really had anything more to say than what he thought was necessary._

_At the very least, he later thought, he should go through with this all the way._

"Ah, screw this," he muttered, mentally shredding his prepared "speech" to shreds before fixating his strong look into her purple eyes.

"Rukia," he simply stated. "Happy Birthday."

The audience tittered, adored with the fact that the boy had won her such a coveted prize on a special day for his girl, her birthday.

Rukia couldn't believe it when he first stated it, but she realized then that it was, in fact, her birthday, January 14th.

"And," he continued, "I actually had some kind of speech, but I figured I'd just wing it and be more _me_ with you."

Her heart was pounding unnaturally fast, faster than any thrill of battle, faster than any of her close dances with death. Faster… Throbbing…

"So…"

He knelt down, dragging her slightly down with him, and fumbled with free hand in his left pocket for his charm. He brought it to her hands, and she felt a soft texture on a solid object.

He withdrew his hand to present to her a simple plain silver ring with a red ribbon tied around it.

The red ribbon of fate… and for the color of Shinigami spirit threads…

"Kuchiki Rukia, will you marry me?"

Rukia did not speak for some time, simply staring at the ring nestled in its little jewelry box, unaware and aware of the smiling booth owner, the audience that waited with bated breath, her nervous and expectant Shinigami partner, her friend, her…

_Thud._ The basket dropped from her slack grip, the cage burst open with the force, and the rabbit fled, dodging past the crowd's feet. She paid it no heed, however. She paid nothing heed, except for what was in front of her…

"Yes, you fool," she whispered, before she knelt down and hugged him, forgetting about his proffered ring in her emotion.

The crowd this time did not explode into a loud frenzy, but aw-ed at the romantic spectacle.

Ichigo smirked more and just let her cling to him, his heartbeat that had accelerated in anticipation and the fear of rejection slowing down to a more moderate tempo.

"_Now_, we're engaged."

"Fool, of all the things you could have said after that…"

_The problems start_, thought Ichigo as he embraced her_, with my new soon-to-be brother-in-law, who's probably going to Bankai my ass off with Senbonzakura Kageyoshi. … Ah well, that'll have to wait._

He simply sat down on the floor, hugging her closer to him, who had begun crying, and was now trying to cover her tears up in his jacket.

_All in a day's work,_ thought the booth owner happily, and exited his stall for some space for the lovers, and in search of the escaped rabbit.

Ichigo noticed him leave, and nodded his thanks. The owner simply waved his hand and disappeared. Ichigo then thought back to the planning stage.

"_How are you going to ask her out?" _

"_About that… I'm not going to ask her out. _

"_I'm going to propose to her."_

* * *

><p><strong>Super-long-author-note:<strong> Phew, this was the longest oneshot and chapter for me ever, and that's without my author notes. I'm so glad that people liked **Rukia's Rain**, and I still had an oneshot left to do for **xombi316**, and since I wasn't getting replies, I just took the liberty to do whatever I wanted with it. I have **lung cancer**, by the way, so this will probably be the last update for this month. You'll have to wait till next month, sorry.

People, thank you so much for your continued support of my works. It's a real pleasure to be able to write for you guys. I hope you check out my other fics, review, or just read for romance, for humor, or for fun.

This is kind of an AU where nothing really happens after the Fullbringer Arc, since I don't know enough about the next to mention it in the oneshot.

I think I got lazy with the actual proposal part, but I liked the beginning for this fic. Please give your thoughts about this chapter. Oh, by the way, Ishida is not a nerd for going to cram school. That's just what Ichigo would kinda think.


	3. When It's Rukia oneshot form

**Not-so-long-author-note:** Hey! This is the 4th chapter for When It's Rukia, but as an oneshot. I'll say more in the author note below, **SO PLEASE READ THE AUTHOR NOTE BELOW.**

This is rated **T** for mild language.

**Warning: Possible spoilers**

* * *

><p><strong>When It's Rukia – Kurosaki Ichigo<strong>

Despite his Shinigami partner's woeful knowledge of Humans and their customs, she was understanding, agreeable and curious about them, making it easy to educate her. Not to say that she didn't have her own questions and opinions, but she rarely looked down on them, having been human herself at one distant point in time, though she held no memory of her time as one. It was an errant thought that had Ichigo curious now and then.

Surely, like other Shinigami, Rukia hadn't just… "poofed" into being. There had to have been a more mortal starting point along the line for them. Shinigami didn't just pop into existence like Rukia had popped into his life the night she had saved him and his family.

He looked up from his history textbook, which was already taking its toll on his hands, wrists, and arms that supported it above his head. His head, wreathed in short and fiery orange hair, was nestled in his pillow, with his powerful and toned body that followed it sinking into the mattress of his bed. A quick glance over to his open closet presented to him the image of one short Kuchiki Rukia, tucked in the small space between the wall and sliding door. She was perched on spare mattresses and blankets, poring over the latest issue of her favorite manga, occasionally flipping the pages with a thoughtful look, and swinging her legs absentmindedly. It was a typical scene, but he could not help but feel something – he refused to call it relief – trickle into his chest area.

It had been over a year since he had last seen her after all.

And upon closer examination, the once all-too-familiar scene was not too typical anymore. One of the most noticeable differences was her hair, which was shorter and swung more freely than her previous hairstyle. Privately, he thought this hairstyle suited her more. It was short like her, though he would never say this out loud for the risk of a bruised shin. In addition to her hair, she had also decided to stick with donning the standard Shinigami attire, a black hakama with a simple white sash which fluttered this way and that with each swing of her legs. Then his eyes slid to her face.

He didn't know much about the aging process of Shinigami, but he knew they did grow to some extent, though at a much slower pace than humans. However, he could see signs of maturity on her, ones that did not have to rely on a changed facial structure.

The new addition of the 13th Division armband that sat snugly and proudly on her upper left arm announced her progress in skills and rank, and declared its owner as the rightful holder of the title of the 13th Division Vice-captain of the Gotei 13. Her eyes bespoke of gained wisdom and experience, and the delicate and slender white gloves laid carefully off to the side, though unforgotten, showcased her increased dignity and pride.

How she had grown.

His eyes latched onto the gloves, thinking of the hands that they had snugly fit, the same hands that had righted things again in a way things of this mortal world couldn't…

_Rain. Never-ceasing, unending, relentless rain. It poured over his numb body, but then how could it be numb, when his heart was splintering and the slash wound flared and tinged with pain sporadically? A wound, given by none other than the one person he thought he could trust to help him, to help regain his ability to protect, and to give him a chance, no matter how slim, to see _her_ again. The deeper pain didn't hurt like a lover scorned, or the recognition of failure, but like that of the deepest betrayal. He had put his life in this man's hands, had slaved under the instructions and advice of this stranger, and damn _believed in_ Ginjo, (and he even went as far as to place trust in him) to help him achieve Fullbring and restore his former powers. _

_Now that same man that had given him the power to protect had robbed him of it, walking away with his decoy, Tsukishima. Bastard Tsukishima may be for messing with his friends and family, but Ginjo took the cake for the biggest bastard of them all in this situation. _

"_Noooooooooooooo!"_

_He didn't roar, didn't yell, didn't scream as was his wont, as was his usual when in battle and when agitated. He cried, long and drawn-out, as he had done the night _she_ had left to protect him from Soul Society. The act strained his torn muscles, exacerbating his wound, but he couldn't care less. Just as he couldn't care less about the look of pity that the injured and downed Uryu gave him, though he was remorseful at his friend's plight, who had tried to help him. It was a miracle that he could even make him out through the film of tears obscuring his vision. All the despair, the secret doubts and fears about the troubles his family and friends went through and unleashed itself in that one cry, leaving him feeling empty._

_Feeling empty was better than being full to bursting of despair._

"…_Is he crying? I feel so horrible," mocked Tsukishima, watching Ichigo with fake pity. Ginjo, by this time, had already turned around and started walking away from the grief-ridden scene. Indifferent. Cold. _

"_Let him cry. We've no use for him anymore," he stated callously. "It's unlikely… we will ever meet him again."_

_Somehow, Ichigo managed to find his forgotten voice (how strange that it had not disappeared under the onslaught of grief and horror) and called, "…Give it back…!" Ginjo stopped, his coat darkening under the rain and little droplets that ran down his hair before collecting on his shoes and jacket. _

"_Give it back, Ginjo… Give my power back!"_

"…_What…? You're joking. It's power that _I_ gave back to you. It belongs to _me_!" Ichigo breath caught at this. His eyes widened even further, though such a feat would have been impossible in any other case. But more importantly, what was this man saying?_

_He thought of his friends and his boss, Keigo, Mizuiro, Tatsuki, Ikumi-san, Chad, Inoue. His family… Karin, Yuzu… _

_He couldn't protect anyone…_

"_I'm sparing your life even though you're useless now. The least you could do is thank me."_

_Sparing his life… _

"_Ginjo…"_

Useless.

"_GINJO!" he roared, leaping to his feet in a sudden rush of energy and lunging for the retreating, leather-clad back. Only to be pierced by a sword of light. His pupils wavered in his eyeballs, before swiveling around to focus on the source behind him. Wrong, he off—handedly noted, _sources.

_As he focused on his long-missing father, Urahara Kisuke finished pulling off the cape of what appeared to be invisibility off of him and Kurosaki Isshin. One solemn Isshin and Urahara, that is. _

"…_Dad…? Ura…hara…san…?" He couldn't recognize his voice. It was pitiful, quavering. It was the voice of a child, who had lost everything before his eyes, who couldn't believe that there was even greater despair to come on top of this. _

_It was weak._

_Had his dad and mentor come to steal from him too? They were too late though, there was nothing worth stealing from him. Perhaps they had come simply for his life? He mused on this morbidly, before a trembling hand lifted itself to clutch at the blade that protruded from his chest. His fingers curled around the blade, which now shook in time with his own quaking hands. _

_Another bond, lost. _

"…_So that's it… That is it, then…?" he mumbled, wearily, resignedly, and with no hope at all flecking his tone. His head that he had lowered lifted enough for his eyes to catch his father's unusually somber gaze. Again, something tickled his eyes, and the feeling was so unfamiliar, he almost slackened his grip in shock. _

_Tears. Since when had he last cried? He couldn't remember, it could have been when he had awoken to his mother's mangled body that rainy day, it could have been when _she_ had left to protect him, he couldn't remember. And it wouldn't matter soon anyways, not when he was going to be robbed of everything. _

"_Dad…" he near whimpered, "you too…?" His voice choked up, hiccups and sobs threatening to tear themselves from his throat. "That's… how it is…?"_

_His father continued to remain serious, but then again, it would have been weird if he weren't in this situation. What was Ichigo hoping for? For the return of his bright, silly, easy-to-abuse father? His happy-go-lucky fool of a father? But this character did not appear, overshadowed by something heavy and sad in Isshin's eyes. "…You idiot. It wasn't me who stabbed you," his father chastised, unusually gentle compared to his usual blunt comments. "Look closely."_

_Look? Look at where, at what, at who? Look where, when he had lost sight of all things precious and dear to him? _

"_You should be able to see their form by now."_

_Their? A person? People? But who…?_

"_Just who…is holding that sword!"_

_His eyes continued to dart around the space surrounding Isshin and Urahara, not comprehending. Then his eyes caught something. And all breath whooshed out of him._

He continued to stare at her, thought whether it was the girl in his closet or the girl in that slow, seemingly-fantasy world, he wasn't sure.

Things had sort of just become a blur after that. The restoration of his powers, the fight between the Fullbringers, the arrival of Byakuya, Toshiro, Ikkaku, Renji and Zaraki, _the return of Rukia_. It almost seemed too good to be true. He couldn't find it in himself to be annoyed at Byakuya and Toshiro's entrance, the cold pricks they were in his memories of them, nor could he find exasperation before Zaraki and Ikkaku's bloodlust. He was glad to see Renji who looked stronger yet again, the monster.

But Rukia's return had done many things that any Shinigami's return could have not. Just as her spontaneous, uncalled for, and unwelcomed intrusion into his life that night, that had simply started with a girl walking through his bedroom wall, had done something for him that could not, and would not be able to be replicated by anyone else. She was no cheerful sun; she was in fact one annoying short Shinigami girl who really annoyed him at times. But she was also the one who had kicked him back into shape emotionally and mentally when he couldn't relate to anyone else, had give him the power to protect and had taught him how to forgive himself, for that rainy day that had ended with his dead mother, and started his rain and nightmares.

She was no sun, but what else could he call her when she was the only one who had been able to stop his rainy downpour? No, he mused, still staring blankly ahead at Rukia, she was more like the moon, which seemed to fit with her personality and Zanpaktou fittingly. He didn't think her sword's ice and snow could survive against the sun after all, even if it was created unnaturally by her sword and soul power.

She also resembled the moon, with her cold and unfriendly-looking exterior, but with a pure white aura and personality about her, that lit up everything for others to see at night. It was no sun, but her "light" was enough to end his rain, and that was all that mattered, as far as Ichigo and Zangetsu were concerned.

His lips smirked and grimaced in turns as he dredged up the memories of that night. Well, he couldn't really "dredge" them up, because they were and would be one of his clearest and most pre- ahem, _just_ clearest memories. Memories with their good and bad points, hence his lips' complicated dance.

He smirked again as he looked up to her. Rukia, feeling his gaze, looked up into his eyes curiously from across the room.

"Spit it out Ichigo, what is it?" And that was also something about her that hadn't changed. She always liked to be blunt and head on about things. It was a good quality, one facet of her personality that wasn't irritating or exasperating, and easy to relate to. He had the same trait after all.

His eyes drifted to Sode no Shirayuki, gazed contemplatively and didn't answer. She caught his gaze, and her own eyes drifted down to his line of sight. "What about my sword, Ichigo?"

_Gimme…_

"…the sword, Shinigami."

She started in surprise, and stared at him, her own memories, her own experiences on that night welling up. Her lips parted, and a corner of her mouth curled into a wry smirk, as if she was in on a secret just between them.

_I'm not "Shinigami"…_

That night, when the only conscious souls in front of one little house, one little street… Fought in their own ways, desperately and head-on…

"I'm Kuchiki Rukia."

Who contributed her power, with the death bell already tolling in the back of her head, knowing that for one annoying, fifteen-year old Karakura high school student…

_I'm…_

Despite the imminent death sentence for her felony, the transfer of Shinigami powers to a human, though said human was clearly beyond normal…

"…Kurosaki Ichigo."

A flash, a surge of transferring powers and one purified Hollow later, had been their beginning, and would always be. No amount of power could change that. In the present, they both smiled at each other in their own unique ways, Rukia with an admonishment of "baka" and a small grin, and Ichigo with a scowl that held no actual ire and some snappy retorts that held no conviction.

Yes, he thought, truth be told, their story had started out simply with two stupid and reckless souls, in front of his house, trying to save everyone with a kind of innocent recklessness; it had survived and toughed out to reach its current chapter right now in his room. And there would surely be many more chapters to come. He would go through everything that had happened for his life to now have gained a new addition in the form of one cheeky Shinigami. He refused to say that he wanted her in his life, wanted her to stay, because it was too superficial.

He needed her.

He needed her, just as much as she had needed him to help her with Hollow missions when she did not have powers, to meet just one more time to properly apologize and atone for dragging him into the world of Shinigami, to help her race (for no matter how outwardly human she seemed to be, she was always and distinctly a Shinigami) in a war against one of the most deadliest of villain masterminds, and to keep her own personal rain at bay, though he was no childhood friend, no brother, no mentor, no acquaintance, but simply an utter _stranger_ that she had complete confidence in, a stranger she had learned to count on in the mere span of two months.

He had come to terms with this fact when she had left for Soul Society, and left him in tatters for those hellish seventeen months. He dreamed of their past memories, dreamed of what could've been, and had shut his closet door, unable to stare at it without becoming remorseful, wistful and what he called "pathetically sad". He had left so much unsaid that he found himself rethinking his thoughts over, like a rehearsal, but when she had come back, he was so dumbstruck, so surprised, so grateful that all his organized thoughts had fled his brain like lesser Hollows did before his Zanpaktou, Zangetsu.

It had hurt, that one of his… he didn't know what to call her frankly. She wasn't his girlfriend or lover, nor was she simply a friend. She was certainly a comrade, a _nakama_, but an indescribable type of comrade, and she simply remained in his life a special category of her own. No matter what she was exactly, it had hurt that he couldn't trade verbal blows with someone that wasn't annoyingly feisty in a manner like Keigo, who could be mature and wise, whose fascination with the Human World made it entertaining to watch her, and could always, without fail, kick him back into shape and support and believe in him, even if the whole damn world pointed fingers at him and proclaimed his opinions, hell, his existence, wrong.

He sometimes couldn't believe that she was still in front of him. He hadn't brought up the silent questions that still hung in the air between them, like a poisonous fog. _When are you going back? Will you ever return back, if that time came?_

No, he shook his head. He shouldn't dwell on that. What mattered was that he could protect once again, and that he had one of his most important comrades back in his life again, which warranted some hefty verbal lashings, ahem, to make up for her absence.

Before he had even gotten out his first snide remark, Rukia lifted her head again to warmly say, "I'm glad to be back in this small closet." _I'm glad to see this room and you again. _

"Che, it shouldn't be that small. It's not like you've grown at all in seventeen months." _I missed you._

"Say that again!"

He let himself relax into one of their verbal wars again, warm, secure, and comfortable in his room, his history textbook long forgotten in a corner of his bed. The day was sunny out, with not a chance of rain, physically or mentally, and a promise of a day together with his friends, family, and Rukia.

And he wouldn't have had it any other way.

* * *

><p><strong>Super-long-author-note:<strong> Hey guys, as usual, thanks so much for all the visitors and hits to my stories! While I'd love to hear from you guys by review or messaging, your interest in my fics has made me quite happy! I have **lung cancer**, so my updates will be slow, but I'll try my best!

If any readers that read this also read **When It's Rukia**, you'll notice this was supposed to be the 5th chapter. Yes, but I received 3, yes **3**, private messages stating that it was good enough to be an oneshot, so I thought I'd just repost it as an oneshot to see how people like this particular chapter. No changes were made. New readers, welcome! I hope you didn't find this too heavy and in character. Currently, it's my favorite chapter in **When It's Rukia**, one of my other fics. Please check out my other fics if you want. Reviews appreciated. ^^

So, this has some Fullbringer Arc mentions, and I hope nobody is angry with me for spoiling because I did put a spoiler warning up top. Canon hasn't gotten far enough past the Fullbringer Arc to allow me to create a plausible situation, so I just focused on what already happened to Ichigo, and his thoughts.


	4. Carnival Proposal Pt 2

**Not-so-long-author-note:** This is part two of one of my oneshots, **Carnival Proposal**, created by popular demand! Thanks so much for your support you guys!

This is rated **T **for mild language.

**Warning: Possible spoilers.**

* * *

><p><em>From Carnival Proposal Part One:<em>

"_The problems start_, thought Ichigo as he embraced her_, with my new soon-to-be brother-in-law, who's probably going to Bankai my ass off with Senbonzakura Kageyoshi. … Ah well, that'll have to wait._"

**Carnival Proposal Part Two**

Ichigo squirmed on the soft and comfortable green cushion he was kneeling on, feeling anything but comfortable. He could still sense Rukia's reiatsu signature on the other side of the mansion, but couldn't find it in himself to focus on it. Not when he was staring at a tiger in the jaw right now.

Kuchiki Byakuya was currently regarding him with a baleful glare, which was infinitely better than his unreadable expression a few minutes ago. At least hatred, killing intent, and annoyance were emotions he had seen and could understand, like what Byakuya's current gaze held. He wasn't good with reading perfectly unemotional gazes.

_Geez, what the hell am I doing here?_ he wondered. _I should be running _away_ from this guy, not running _towards_ him._

But as it was, he had no choice. He was, and prided himself on being an honor-bound man, and as one, he felt obligated to inform Rukia's adoptive brother of his recent proposal, which he hadn't gotten permission for in the first place. Also, he knew Rukia would appreciate the gesture, and would never have consented to his offer had he not brought the matter up eventually with her only family, adoptive or not.

That was another thing he liked about her. She was honor-bound and pure in ideals, yet she knew when it was best for herself and others to break the rules, like when she had transferred her Shinigami powers to him that night to first save, foremost, his family and himself, then herself.

He tried to stop squirming and reminded himself that he had already faced Byakuya before, but this was different. This time, it wasn't a simple clash of blades and a bunch of forceful beatings of morals into his opponent. This time, he was in a much more delicate situation. His former opponent was none other than the brother of his, hopefully, soon-to-be-official-fiancée, so it wouldn't do well for his image as a prospective husband or the prospects of their marriage to beat Byakuya black and blue. Nope, that wouldn't do, even if he had the ability to.

…But his prospects were already kind of dismal for him, seeing as he had already beat Byakuya black and blue to save Rukia, and insulted him intentionally and unintentionally numerous times.

A servant announced his intention to serve tea, and Byakuya finally spoke for the second time that day with a simple "Enter," to grant permission for the servant to enter. The first time had been to order Rukia to relocate for the time being to the other side of the Kuchiki house.

An elderly man shuffled in quietly with a tray of steaming green tea in fine porcelain cups, deposited them on the table in between the two Shinigami, and backed out with a bowed posture.

It was plainly and obviously rude for Ichigo to even think of drinking tea when Byakuya hadn't even begun discussing his decision yet, so he tried to think of other things besides his parched throat. His discomfort increased with each tick of the imaginary clock in his head. To distract himself, he tried to think, as Byakuya continued to study him, the importance of Byakuya to Rukia.

To Rukia, Byakuya wasn't simply a mysterious benefactor who picked her off of a difficult and poor road and provided her with wealth, security and a surname to be proud of. He was her elder sister's husband and a kind older adoptive brother, though he never showed his kindness easily.

"…Kurosaki Ichigo…" stated Byakuya indifferently, speaking for the first time in over an hour.

Ichigo wasn't fooled for one second by his apathetic tone. He could feel Byakuya raise the pressure of his reiatsu _ever so slightly_, enough for him to feel the silent threat and subtle enough that Rukia wouldn't be able to feel from the distance she was at. He refused to gulp or clench his fingers, but he could feel cold sweat forming on his palms already.

"Byakuya…san…" he replied, fumbling over his relatively new usage of honorifics with Byakuya's name. It felt weird on his tongue, like a wrong flavor. He wondered if Byakuya was caught off guard but doubted that. If anything, Byakuya was probably pleased that he had finally submitted to referring to him with something close to the proper amount of respect befitting one of Byakuya's rank as the 6th Division Captain and the head of the Kuchiki clan, the top clan of the Four Noble Houses in Seireitei.

He would have glanced around, but that would have meant he was scared, or probably not confident in his decision to marry Rukia to even hold eye-contact with his potential future brother-in-law. No matter. He had seen enough of the bamboo walls and floors, the sparse and aesthetically pleasing dark wood furniture in the large and spacious room, with calligraphy scrolls dotting the walls at respectable intervals, and the sliding shoji doors that branched off from the room, discrete to the point where they almost blended within the wall patterns.

Across the low wood table with a calligraphy set and an interrupted work of calligraphic art he stared, trying to show his resolve in his confident eye contact, his straight and tall posture, and all the emotion of love for Rukia that he hoped showed in his chocolate brown eyes. He didn't really believe crap like "eyes were windows to the soul", but he was willing to try anything in this case to be able to marry Rukia, to be able to live with her and have her by his side for as long as possible.

"You dared to ask for Rukia's hand in marriage _before_ getting _my permission_?"

The pressure rose even more and Ichigo idly noted that the tea cups were now shaking from the force, the tea inside sloshing slightly. The soft rattling added an ominous tone to the proceedings. If it weren't for the unmistakable scent and feel of bamboo flooring under him, he would have thought himself in a court room.

"That's why I'm here," Ichigo apologized, trying to marshal his thoughts, "I knew it wasn't right to propose without your permission, but I wanted to do it while we both had time off from school and on her birthday, before she had to return to Soul Society."

Byakuya was silent, and Ichigo took his silence as a sign to continue.

"You've known me, even if it was only a year or so, that Rukia and I've been through a lot together… and that she means a lot to the both of us."

The 6th Division Captain's eyes softened slightly at the end of Ichigo's sentence, confirming his often-hidden love and protectiveness of his sister.

Seeing this as a positive sign, Ichigo plunged forward. "I don't know all the formalities of Soul Society, heck, even in my world, but I figure I should have at least dated or courted her, right?"

Byakuya was about to open his mouth, but Ichigo beat him to it.

"In my world," he began, ignoring the dirty look being sent his way, "dating is a way… to test waters, I guess. You kinda get to know different kinds of people, and you can always break off and start new, or you can be lucky and find that… special someone… And I knew that for me, Rukia was that 'special someone'."

The Kuchiki head was now listening intently to Ichigo's words, most likely curious as to where the Substitute Shinigami was going with his words. Or there was the possibility he was letting him say his last hopeless words before he flat out refused or tried to kill him. But Ichigo had come too far with his feelings to back down now.

"Rukia didn't exactly come into my life the way I wanted to, at first," he admitted, remembering her _sadistic_ abuse of his person with the supernatural skills of ahem, _Kido_, ahem, at her disposal.

"And she didn't leave my life the first time the way I wanted to," he added, remembering that night of rain, rain that had coincidentally had to happen again as his partner of two months had left, not of her own will but by the will of two people who hurt her more emotionally with their mission than any physical blow dealt by a random Shinigami.

"Actually, I didn't even want her to leave," Ichigo confessed. "At the time, I just viewed it as something I had to do to repay the debt I owed her, for saving me and my family… When things got more desperate and we were losing time fast though, I realized that reason was bullshit."

Byakuya had hardly blinked in a while, his slate grey eyes locked onto Ichigo's brown eyes.

"After beating Renji and seeing how much he wanted to save her, it made me think why I should rescue Rukia with a shitty excuse like mine," he solemnly stated. "While in Soul Society, I kept asking myself if fighting Captains and Vice-Captains, endangering my friends, and risking my life worth it for this one girl?"

The reiatsu pressure had lowered down, but it was still ready to smother him. Ichigo was able to relax more though because of this, no matter how slightly the reiatsu had diminished. The fact that it had even lowered down meant that Byakuya was either okay with what he was saying so far or was willing to hear him to the end. It was a start, a foothold, and Kurosaki Ichigo wasn't one to let go of a foothold that easily.

"Then we fought…" and here he trailed off awkwardly. Yeah, recounting memories of beating up your future brother-in-law wasn't exactly something he would cozy up to you for.

"Then we rescued her," recalled Ichigo, images and battles flashing through his mind as if he were still there, "and Aizen just messed everything up."

Both males' eyes hardened for a moment, experiencing the same scene; of Aizen ordering Ichimaru Gin to kill Rukia, how he had held her helpless body up like a doll, of hearing the whistling sword make its speedy way towards the frantic beating heart of one of the most important people in their lives, hungry to end it.

"After all that crazy stuff, I was kind of disappointed that she didn't want to go home with me, but I was also happy for her. It was her own decision without any worries. To begin with, she wasn't even supposed to stay in my world. Our worlds were different.

"She came back later to kick me back into shape after I first met the Arrancars, and tried to save me from Grimmjow, and followed me and my friends without a thought into Hueco Mundo because _she believed in me_, just as I believe in her.

"When I realized that my feelings weren't staying platonic as I had originally thought, she had already returned to Soul Society after the war."

He grimaced as he remembered those lonely seventeen months. He was down that she wasn't around to greet him with a morning kick to the shins, or to run alongside him as he chased Hollows, bossing him around like the days after she had first transferred her powers to him. He wasn't depressed though, or weepy, because some part of him was scared that anyone besides his family, and maybe his _human_ friends could make him feel this way, had this much control over his feelings, and another, if larger part was hopeful that they would be able to meet again.

He leveled his gaze so that it squarely met Byakuya's, and said in a tone that left no room for argument, "And we both know what I would do to protect her, though she's strong enough to take care of plenty things on her own."

Byakuya grunted in agreement with his last sentence.

Ichigo would have said more, but Byakuya suddenly stood up in a single fluid movement with a rustling of cloth. He uttered a short sound of surprise as Byakuya strode over to the main shoji door and opened it, exposing a view of a simple traditional Japanese garden.

"Follow."

Pushing off from the floor with his left hand, Ichigo trotted after the Kuchiki head into the garden, who was already standing still. When Ichigo had caught up to him, Byakuya turned around to face the Substitute Shinigami and drew out his sword and held it vertically in front of his face.

"Huh?"

"Draw your sword, if you wish for Rukia's hand. She will not be allowed to marry a ryoka and low-class Shinigami like you. She will be arranged to marry a suitable aristocrat suitor."

Rage filled Ichigo at Byakuya's cold words, and he drew out Zangetsu, swinging it in a deadly arc towards Byakuya. Byakuya did not wait in place and dodged it with Shunpo to maneuver behind Ichigo, the only thing that betrayed his previous position being an impression in the grass in front of Ichigo.

Ichigo whirled around, his large Zanpaktou whistling through the air to clash with Senbonzakura in a burst of sparks. Baring his teeth, Ichigo growled, "Why are you doing this? You're her brother, and it's up to her to make her own choices!"

"A brother," replied Byakuya as he leaped back from his previous locked position, "should intervene in the interest of his younger siblings to determine what is right for them."

Ichigo hesitated at that, before shaking his head decisively and charging towards the stoic man, roaring, "You know better than anyone that Rukia-! Rukia…"

He skidded to a halt, the bottom of his Shinigami robes fluttering this way and that. His hands checked Zangetsu from clashing again with Byakuya's Zanpaktou, then dropped it by his side. Byakuya's frown deepened in confusion.

"...Why did you move your blade?"

Ichigo gave a soft and brief chuckle. "You know, your words are almost the same the time we fought in Soul Society."

Byakuya simply stared at him, but his mind was elsewhere…

"_Why did you move your blade… away from my neck?"_

_Dust trailed from the bottom of the two figures and hair strands waved chaotically in the gust before settling down. _

"_Was it to show your confidence?"_

_Ichigo stared across at his opponent, whose anger was plainly growing. He refused to budge though._

"_Arrogance… is often the undoing of a would-be victor… I will say it once more…"_

_Byakuya's foot shifted forward slightly across the ground, creating a rough and dull scraping sound and releasing even more dust in the already dust-infested battlefield. _

"_The thing that you are holding… cannot be Bankai."_

_To Byakuya, it was laughably absurd. This was a ryoka standing before him, claiming that the black sword he had insolently pointed towards him just moments ago was a _Bankai_, of all things. The same ryoka who could not even follow his movements weeks ago when he came for Rukia._

"_It is impossible for something so small to be Bankai and… it is impossible… for a mere ryoka to achieve Bankai."_

_Ichigo continued to stare, seemingly unaffected. _

"_You will regret it… after my next strike. You will regret not slicing my throat open when you had the chance."_

_They had clashed again then, but not before Byakuya had said that-_

"…Miracles can only happen once," echoed Ichigo in the present.

"Miracles weren't really something I believed in before I met Rukia, just as I didn't believe in the souls I could see. Then Rukia came into my life, doing all these impossible things as a Shinigami and saved my family without thinking for herself."

It was quiet for some time in the garden, before Ichigo spoke again.

"It was miracle that both of us got out of that mess alive. It was a miracle that my family could be saved. It was a miracle that I could become a Shinigami and protect those closest to me and everyone else.

"It was a miracle… that I met your sister Kuchiki Rukia, Byakuya."

Ichigo had forgotten the proper suffix he had resolved to use for Byakuya, but it didn't seem Byakuya minded or cared at that moment. Byakuya was still watching him across the garden, and his sword was still up, as if he were waiting for something.

Ichigo scratched the back of his head, suddenly unsure of what else to say. "Er… yeah, and the reason I can say that is because of what you said earlier. I knew the Byakuya from when I first came to Soul Society might have had Rukia go through an arranged marriage, but the Byakuya now would never do something to shackle his sister like that."

Something in the Kuchiki's expression finally relaxed and he sheathed his sword without a sound and started to walk away.

"Wait, Byakuya-!"

"Knowing the thoughts of those close to your loved ones is crucial, Kurosaki Ichigo," Byakuya called back. "I would not have given Rukia's hand otherwise."

As Byakuya drifted away from sight, Ichigo grinned. Byakuya had meant to test him today if he truly knew his future brother-in-law, by provoking him with his "plan" to forcefully arrange a marriage for Rukia. Honestly though, all Ichigo was glad for was that he didn't have to beat Byakuya black and blue to marry Rukia.

After Byakuya had a private talk with Rukia, Ichigo went home triumphant that day with her, now ready to impose the big news to his family. The one thing that soured his mood and day however, was Byakuya's request (no, not even a request; it was a _do-it-or-die_ order) for him to plant a sakura tree close to his house, and inside if possible.

And Ichigo got the feeling it wasn't just for an innocent decoration or gift.

* * *

><p><strong>Super-long-author-note:<strong> Hey guys, as usual, thanks so much for all the visitors and hits to my stories! While I'd love to hear from you guys by review or messaging, your interest in my fics has made me quite happy! I have **lung cancer**, so my updates will be slow, but I'll try my best!

What's the break this time, author? Well, have you people heard of an evil thing called "make-up work"? It grows and grows and won't leave you alone. Since I've been missing a lot of school for treatments, tests, or just really bad days, I have a crapload (excuse my language) of work to make up now. Don't expect new chapters soon except for the occasional fix of a chapter. Sorry, but I will still try my best for you wonderful guys.

Yesh, part two of **Carnival Proposal** is here by popular demand. Thanks so much for the support guys! I might make another chapter for Isshin and the Kurosaki family's reactions… This is not turning into an oneshot anymore, is it? And yeah, Ichigo's ass was thankfully not Bankai-ed off by Byakuya's Senbonzakura Kageyoshi… for now… So the pacing might have been slow to some, but it is tense, and there are a lot of themes I wanted to cover in their meeting. And Byakuya's more lenient to Ichigo than most might think, but that doesn't mean he won't give him a hard time. I think I made Ichigo a bit OOC or too romantic, but I think he would go about something like this seriously, and romance tends to not be too far from seriousness… And Byakuya is always a hard character for me to write about… I'd love your feedback!

Oh! Before I forget, I have to address the anonymous reviewers for my other oneshots! Thanks so much for your reviews!

**To NeKo3: **Thanks for your sentiments! I have several new oneshots up since your review and I hope you enjoy them as much as the first one. As for health… I'm working on that…

**To ur worst nightmare452: **Eek! How are you my worst nightmare? Just kidding. Thank you, and I'm trying my best in health!

**To Meh: **I have written more chapters, and I hope you enjoy them. Thanks!

**To anon:** Haha, I think you accidentally made two reviews. But that made my review number go up. :D Thanks so much! And actually Ichigo probably would have started with dating, but the words "Carnival Proposal" wouldn't leave me alone… So voila!

Everybody else I think I replied to already since you signed in. To the anonymous reviewers so far and any future ones, if you have an account, please sign in if you review so I can reply back ASAP. If you're anonymous, it might be a while before I reply back to you via author note in the next chapter.

**By the way**, if you see this story and my other stories being updated all of a sudden with no new chapters, that's just me fixing past mistakes in my chapters. They're like false-alarm updates. Sorry if I get someone's hopes up as I do this.


End file.
